


After It All

by slash4femme



Series: Not Quite Lost, Not Quite Found [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mental intimacy, Mpreg, emergency medical Mpreg, incubator baby, the Enterprise crew supporting each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-12
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 16:03:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash4femme/pseuds/slash4femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock Prime and McCoy, trying to make a family. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also written for[ this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/330.html?thread=1115210#t1115210) at st_xi_kink_meme. Beta read by [](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/) **cardiac_logic**  who is just wonderful.

I.

He’s not sure how he could have not thought of this sooner.Obviously they were bonded, and the Council had to admit that fact, however reluctantly. So when Spock messages him to simply say ‘it’s passed,’ he doesn’t know why his first thought isn’t what that will mean for them. An exemption to the genetic manipulation laws has been given to the Vulcan colony on New Vulcan to ensure that their entire race does not die out within the next generation or so. McCoy is glad about this, he really is; he’d been in favor of the exemption and Ambassador Spock had fought particularly hard for it. He’s just not sure why it had never occurred to him that now that the exemption was passed, they would have to have a child.

“But . . .” He stares at the screen slumping back in his chair. Spock looks vaguely concerned on the other side of the connection.

“Leonard.” He says gently, “You must have expected this. We are bonded and genetically, if not physically, compatible for having children.”

“Children?” There’s starting to be a hysterical edge to McCoy’s voice.

“We are only required to have one at this time,” Spock cut in smoothly, not that it really helped.

“Ok.” McCoy sits back and thinks about this, without panicking. “Ok, the baby’s going to be . . . incubated,” now that felt good and unnatural to say, “on New Vulcan? At New Vulcan hospital?”

Spock nods. “This is my intention.”

“Ok.” McCoy pulls one hand through his hair. “I’m coming to New Vulcan then.”

“Leonard, this is not necessary,” Spock informs him. “This process does not require your presence.”

McCoy snorts, “Like hell it doesn’t. I don’t care how we’re having this child; I don’t care if he or she is going to be genetically constructed in a lab and then incubated in a machine. He or she is still our child and I’m going to be there.”

Spock looks like he wants to argue with McCoy’s lack of logic and then thinks better of it. “She.”

McCoy looks at him oddly, “What?”

“Our child will be a daughter,” Spock tells him calmly, “The greater percentage of children being born at this time will be female, in order to try and rectify the unequal gender composition of New Vulcan. We will be having a daughter, Leonard; the Council has already informed me of this.”

McCoy stares at him for a long moment, “Great.”

He hits the panel and the line goes dead. For a long moment McCoy just sits there and stares at it before finally closing his eyes and dropping his head into his hands. He’s going to have to talk to Jim about this.

 

II.

New Vulcan is just as hot, dry and strangely pretty as he remembers it.McCoy hauls his bag up and puts it in the ground car he’s rented.

“Bones!”

He turns to see Kirk bounding towards him, trailed by Commander Spock.Kirk is twirling ground car keys, McCoy sees when they get close enough. “Jim, I already got a ground car.”

Kirk rolls his eyes at that. “I can see that, Bones. The other one is for me and Spock.”

He grins and McCoy raises his eyebrows, “You’re not staying on the ship?”

“Nope. I thought we could stay a while and I’d give everyone shore leave,” Kirk tells him. “Spock and I have rented a small house . . .” He squints. “Somewhere that way.”

“Quite close to my father’s home,” Spock supplies helpfully.

“Ok.” McCoy watches the two of them and then shakes his head. “But if you two don’t mind. I have someone I need to see.”

Kirk throws him a knowing look, which McCoy ignores before getting into his ground car.

The Ambassador’s house is not hard to find, even if McCoy hadn’t known the way there by heart. Spock is not at the house, but McCoy knows the combinations to the locks and keys open the door, going inside and dropping off his bag in the bedroom before moving into the living room. He gets himself a drink of something that tastes faintly of lime and sits where he can see out the glass door through to the garden, which is really quite beautiful. A bunch of the flowering shrubs, which had been too small to really be noticeable last time he was here, are now in full bloom. He sips his drink and then concentrates on the mental link between himself and his bondmate. He supposes that there is probably a way of using it to let Spock knows he’s here, but he has no idea how and quite frankly the bond scares the hell out of him most of the time. Spock’s presence in his mind has always been gentle, even pleasurable, but the very idea of McCoy himself fooling around with the damn thing makes him break out in a cold sweat.

He goes back to the bedroom and digs out a PADD with a journal article he’s working on and brings it back into the living room. He sips his drink and works on his article. He must have dozed off slightly at one point because when he next opens his eyes, Spock’s standing there looking down at him.

“Hey.”

“Leonard.”

McCoy looks sleepily up at him and Spock takes the two steps to the couch and folds himself down neatly next to McCoy, and McCoy leans against him and feels Spock’s arms go around him.

“Are you tired?” Spock asks softly, and McCoy shakes his head.

“No, I’m fine.” He doesn’t take his head off of Spock’s shoulder, though. Spock strokes his fingers gently across McCoy’s cheek and McCoy kisses him lightly on one ear.

“I was intending to make us both dinner, Leonard. If that would be acceptable?”

McCoy smiles against the soft skin of Spock’s throat. “Sounds great.”

Spock sits, his arms around the younger man, for a moment longer before releasing him and standing. He makes his way to the kitchen and begins taking out cookware and vegetables. McCoy comes to lean against the kitchen island that divides the living room from the kitchen.

His eyes slowly rake up and down the taller man. Spock doesn’t change much between the times that they are together, and for this McCoy is grateful. Spock is still tall and elegant, grey hair cut neatly in the traditional Vulcan way. His face is lined, but McCoy has never found that unappealing. Likewise, Spock’s body is still strong but starting to soften and fill with age, and McCoy’s always liked that better than the severe lines and angles of the Commander. He slowly begins undressing the older man in his mind, first the soft, black outer robes Spock is wearing today, mentally caressing down Spock’s shoulders and arms as he does. He then moves on to taking off the dark, practical boots and socks before mentally stripping Spock of the heavy turtleneck shirt and Earth style pants. At the heating unit Spock has frozen, and when he slowly turns to McCoy, his eyes are wide and dark. In his mind McCoy strokes one hand lightly up the other man’s chest before stripping him out of the sleeveless undershirt and underwear.

Spock’s hands have gone white knuckled around the spoon he’s holding and his lips part slightly as if to make a sound. McCoy smiles at that, even as in his mind he reaches out for Spock’s hand, twisting their fingers together, then uses their clasped hands to stroke across Spock’s shoulders, down his chest through dark hair, to his gently softening stomach, coming to rest on one of his thighs.

Spock moves then, practically lunging across the room. He grabs McCoy, pulls him close, kissing him fiercely, all tongue, teeth, and desperate need.McCoy laughs when they pull away before cupping the back of Spock’s head and pulling him close for another almost desperate kiss. Spock takes him by the hand, practically dragging him toward the bedroom, and McCoy decides they can eat dinner later.

 

III.

“So this is it; I’m going to be an uncle.” Kirk stares down at the large, black, metallic pod-like-thing with wires and tubes coming out of it, and monitors on all sides.

“Yeah.” McCoy touches the black metal lightly and Kirk looks across at the monitors, not that they show anything interesting yet. There is a little splotch, which McCoy had pointed out to him and told him was McCoy and Ambassador Spock’s daughter, and didn’t that sound weird, even in his head.

A little ways from them in the hall of New Vulcan’s one and only hospital they can hear voices, not raised, of course, but with just enough subtle intensity to make them both look around. Commander Spock comes through the door finally, slightly flushed.

“Captain.” He stands, hands clasped behind his back, tone so formal that McCoy sees Kirk frown. “May I have the keys to our ground car?”

“Sure.” Kirk fishes around in his pocket and pulls them out, “Here.”

Spock takes them and McCoy cranes his head around far enough to see Sarek moving down the hall towards the exit. Spock turns on his heel and leaves the room and Kirk looks back at McCoy.

“I really should, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah.” McCoy raises his eyebrows at him. “You really should.”

Kirk nods and then takes off towards the retreating form of his first officer.

McCoy knows he really shouldn’t, but he can’t help moving to the open door to watch Kirk catch up with Spock. Kirk stops the other man with a hand on his arm and for a moment they talk, Spock’s back still ramrod straight, his whole body radiating tension. Finally Kirk takes the keys away from Spock, touching his hand briefly, before leading the way toward the door. McCoy shakes his head and goes back into the room.

 

IV.

“Sarek wishes for my younger self to have a child,” Spock tells him over dinner that night and McCoy nods.

“I thought it had to be something like that, and with his relationship with Jim . . .”

“So they are together, then?” Spock asks with a sort of puzzled interest.

“Yep.” McCoy sighs, “But not seriously, I think, not . . . like us.”He smiles across at Spock. “Which must make things difficult for Spock. Not seriously involved with Jim enough to ask him to have kids, but too involved to feel comfortable having children with someone else.”

“Perhaps I should speak with him.” Spock takes a sip of his drink and McCoy shakes his head.

“Not if you get that bemused look on your face every time you talk about Spock and Jim being together. I think I should talk to Jim, though.”

“You may be correct about this matter,” Spock acknowledges. “I will attempt to display a greater level of control when I speak to the Commander.”

McCoy looks up at him sharply at that, trying to figure out if Spock is gently teasing him, but it’s almost impossible to tell with Spock.

“Are we thinking of names yet?” McCoy asks.

“I thought we would wait a few more months before having that particular argument, Leonard,” Spock tells him.

“And what makes you think we’ll argue about it?” McCoy asks, but he can’t help but grin at the other man as he says it.

Spock gives him one of those ‘you can’t fool a Vulcan’ looks and McCoy snickers to himself.

“Ok then.” He stands and comes around the table to put one hand against the older man’s cheek and tips his face up slightly, “What do you want to do tonight?”

Spock raises his eyebrows at him. “I had been contemplating writing an article about inverse dimensional fields.”

McCoy sighs and rolls his eyes and then bends over and kisses Spock firmly on the lips. “How about this? How about I suck you off and then you write your article.”

Spock’s eyebrows climb even higher. “That would be unsatisfactory, Leonard.”

“Oh really?” McCoy rocks back on his heels and looks at him.

“Yes,” Spock tells him placidly, “Your plan leaves me no space to reciprocate.”

 

V.

“What’s going on with you and Spock?” McCoy asks bluntly, and Kirk looks down at his drink.

“I thought you already knew?”

“I know that you two are sleeping together,” McCoy tells him flatly. “What I don’t know is if it’s more than that.”

Kirk twists his glass in his hands and McCoy sighs, “Jim, I know relationships are hard for you, I know how you feel about commitment, but this is Spock, and Spock’s a Vulcan and they take these things very seriously, especially now. Hell.” He tips back his drink in one fluid motion; he doesn’t want to have this conversation completely sober, after all. “This is Spock. Spock doesn’t take these things lightly. So you’re really going to need to think about what you two are doing.”

He doesn’t mean it to come out sounding so angry, but it does. This is the younger version of his husband, after all, not to mention a friend, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to stand by and let Jim fuck it up.

“I’ll talk to him.” Kirk doesn’t look happy though, and McCoy refills his glass for him.

“I care a lot about you, Jim,” he tells him softly, “but don’t hurt Spock.”

 

VI.

Although Kirk stays as long as he can, eventually the Enterprise has to leave New Vulcan. McCoy refuses to go with them; he’s staying planet-side until his daughter is born and not anything Ambassador Spock or Kirk can say will change his mind. He gives Chapel full reign of sickbay until he gets back on the ship.

“It’ll be fine,” he tells Kirk. “Chris is more than capable of handling anything that comes up.”

“I’m going to miss you,” Kirk tells him, and McCoy pats him on the back.

“It’s just a couple months; I’ll be back annoying you before you know it.”

Spock and McCoy’s life is comfortable after the departure of Enterprise. They both visit the hospital a lot. Spock teaches at the New Vulcan Science Academy; McCoy works on his own research and helps out at the hospital.

It is good, McCoy thinks, to have this time together, good to eat together everyday and wake up in the morning with Spock by his side. They’ve never had that before, and McCoy likes the gentle routine of it. He’s beginning to seriously consider after the end of the five-year mission leaving Starfleet to live here with Spock and their daughter, maybe take up gardening. He loves Jim and he loves the Enterprise and her crew, but this is what he’s always wanted. More than the adventure and mayhem that seems to always follow Jim, he wants this quiet life.

McCoy’s been a doctor long enough to know that urgent calls in the middle of the night are never a good thing.His first thought is that it’s Kirk, and then he sees it’s from New Vulcan hospital and his heart just about stops; he doesn’t even remember Spock and him getting up or getting dressed. He doesn’t remember the drive to the hospital; all he does remember is nurses and doctors rushing around while monitors scream in distress. He thinks faintly that it’s odd there isn’t any of the shouting he’s used to in these situations; the Vulcans keep their control even in this situation. He thinks he should do something - he’s a doctor for God’s sake, this is his job - but this is also his child, his child who is dying and he’s completely paralyzed.

“Are you ready?” one of the doctor’s asks Spock, who looks serious and drawn but just as calm as everyone else.

“I am.”

_Ready for what?_ McCoy wants to scream, but he can’t, he can’t think. For a moment Spock turns to him, touching McCoy’s cheeks, and for a moment McCoy feels a surge of tenderness and comfort from Spock through their bond. Then the bond goes almost completely dead as Spock very purposefully shuts him out in a way he never has before, and one of the nurses hustles the older man away. 

“You must leave,” a doctor tells him without inflection, but McCoy can’t seem to move. Strong hands clamp on his shoulders, turn him and move him out of the room and into the hall. They propel him down the hall until they come to a small cluster of chairs, then push him down onto one of them. He looks up numbly to see Sarek standing over him.

“The doctors are doing all they can, Doctor McCoy,” Sarek tells him, not really gently, but McCoy knows he is trying to be kind. “There is a high likelihood that the Ambassador will survive.” He hesitates for a moment then adds, “And the implantation will greatly increase the likelihood that your child will also survive.”

McCoy doesn’t know what to say to that, so he only stares down at his hands clenched in his lap. For a long moment Sarek too is quiet, and then he turns.

“We must be patient, McCoy,” Sarek informs him, “I will bring us both tea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  This is the sequel to [Not Quite Lost, Not Quite Found](http://slash4femme.livejournal.com/51306.html). Also written for[ this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/330.html?thread=1115210#t1115210) at st_xi_kink_meme. Beta read by [](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/) **cardiac_logic**  who is just wonderful.

I.  
By the time Sarek comes back with their tea McCoy has managed to get himself out of his earlier panic and thinking clearly. He knows what’s going on now, mostly because he’d been a part of the medical team that had looked into the response if something like this happened. Their child, their daughter, is being implanted into Spock. That doesn’t mean McCoy’s happy about it. He knows this whole thing is new and risky at best, for both Spock and the child. There are hundreds of things that could go wrong, and his mind helpfully reminds him of every single one. His hands are still shaking and he clenches them together in his lap, and for the first time he tries to reach out to Spock through their link but Spock is blocking him completely. He can tell the other man is still alive, but that’s all.

  
Sarek hands him a cup of tea wordlessly and McCoy takes it, holds it tightly in both hands to keep himself from spilling it. He tries to concentrate on the fact that Sarek, in his own Vulcan way, had said it would be all right. He’s a doctor though, and Sarek isn’t, and he’s worked on designing this and it could very well not be all right. Spock is so much older than the average member of the Vulcan colony. There are three different levels of surgical implantation that need to take place, and there could be complications with any one of them. Then, too, their daughter might die before Spock’s body is ready to have her, or she could die during the implantation, or Spock’s body could reject her and they could both die. McCoy clamps down hard on the feeling of nausea that rises up in him. He’s done surgery this complicated himself; he should be able to handle this. He takes several deep, calming breaths and concentrates on making his hands stop shaking. Sarek seems to be perfectly calm sitting opposite McCoy, drinking his tea; McCoy suddenly irrationally hates him for it. He stands, paces across the small alcove, then turns and paces back. He walks over to the window just beside the alcove and looks out into the early morning semidarkness and sighs. He sips his tea and closes his eyes, leaning against the windowsill. He tells himself firmly it will be all right, the doctors here are some of the best he’s ever worked with, it will be all right. He thinks of Kirk and the Commander, wishes suddenly that he wasn’t so alone here, wishes they were there too. He could really use a friend right now.

II.  
By the time one of the doctors comes to find him, he’s worked his way through three cups of tea and a cup of coffee, and left the small group of chairs only twice to go to the bathroom.

“Doctor McCoy.”

He stands although it’s not necessary, “Yes.”

“The surgeries and implantation are completed,” the doctor tells him without inflection. “Both your bondmate and child are in acceptable condition.”

The relief that washes over McCoy is almost physically painful. “Oh thank God.” For a moment he concentrates on breathing, feeling slightly like he might fall down. “Can I see them?”

The doctor gives him a strange look. “Ambassador Spock is not conscious and is not expected to be so for some time.”

“Yes,” McCoy snaps, the aftermath of the worry and terror he’s been holding inside himself making him irritable. “Yes, I know that. I’d like to see him anyway.”  
The doctor simply inclines his head slightly and leads the way.

Spock looks small, drawn and very old, lying on one of the hospital’s biobeds surrounded by a clear sterilization film, which stands like a thin yet impenetrable barrier between Spock and McCoy. McCoy knows it’s standard regulations to have it there for the first several hours after a major surgery of this nature, but the only thing he can think of right now is that he can’t touch Spock and he wants desperately to touch him. For now he sits next to the bed and watches Spock’s chest rise and fall, counts his breaths, and watches the monitors.

III.  
McCoy’s been sitting there for the last couple hours holding Spock’s hand, reading the monitors, when Spock finally opens his eyes.

“Leonard.” His voice is harsh and scratchy and McCoy drops his hand and sags back into his chair.

“Spock.” He swallows hard and runs his fingers through his hair, before reaching out and taking Spock’s hand again. “Our daughter’s fine,” he tells Spock softly; his voice comes out rougher than it should and he can’t stop it from shaking slightly. “Everything went the way it should. You’re both going to be ok.”

Spock only closes his eyes again and drifts back off to sleep, and McCoy lets himself slump forward and press his forehead against their clasped hands. He takes several long, careful breaths, then just sits like that for a long moment before letting go of Spock’s hand and standing. He leaves the hospital room and makes his way down several floors to his own office. He showers in the small shower in the little room off his office that also has a cot in it. He changes into the spare set of clothes he keeps there as well, and gulps down a nutrition bar and yet another cup of Vulcan tea before heading back up to the prenatal wing. Once there he stops in at Spock’s room to check the monitors yet again and then goes in search of Spock’s doctors.

IV.  
McCoy message Kirk several days later when he goes to the house to pick up stuff for himself and Spock. He explains what happened and what they’re doing, trying to sound calm and almost succeeding. He explains that both Spock and the baby are fine, and will probably be fine. He doesn’t play up the possible complications that could take place, although they constantly play through his mind.

“I hope you two haven’t killed each other yet. And that you’ve had that talk with Spock,” he tells Kirk before he sends the message.

Spock is sitting up in bed when McCoy gets back to the hospital. He looks up from the PADD he’s been reading. “I spoke with the doctor on duty; she tells me I will be released to return to the house within the week.”

McCoy nods, setting down the bag he’s brought. “That’s right; I’ll be taking care of you and we should probably talk about what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not.” Spock raises his eyebrows at him and McCoy sits down next to the bed, softening his professional tone by taking Spock’s free hand in his own.

“First off, once we get home you can’t leave the house.” He raises one hand to forestall Spock’s protest. “We have no idea how the radiation from this planet will affect you or our daughter. I know it’s harmless under normal circumstances, even normal pregnancy, but this isn’t a normal circumstance and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to take a chance with either one of your lives. Also it would be best if you stayed prone most of the time. You can shower, use the bathroom and so on, maybe get up and move around the house once or twice a day, but most of the time you’re going to have to be lying down. I also don’t want you going anywhere without this.” McCoy roots around in the bag before coming up with a small rectangular device. “This is an emergency monitor; it’ll track the vital signs of both you and the baby and alert me and the doctors here if either set drops below a certain level.” He squeezes Spock’s hand in his own.

“Ok, that’s all the non-negotiable stuff.”

Spock’s eyes crinkle into his own version of a smile. “Those terms are acceptable, Leonard, given the circumstances. And what are the negotiable aspects of this arrangement?”

“What you eat, mostly,” McCoy tells him and then leans forward and kisses Spock gently. “How much I’m there, that kind of thing.”

Spock regards him quietly, a very gentle expression on his face. “You do tend to hover,” he notes. “I imagine after a certain period of time it will become tiresome for both of us.” He gently tugs McCoy closer using the hands that they still have clasped together and gently presses the tips of his fingers against McCoy’s cheek in a small caress. McCoy turns his face slightly and kisses the tips of Spock’s fingers.

“I’ll try to keep my hovering professional,” he tells Spock with a small smile.

“Leonard?”

“Yes Spock?”

“Go back to the house tonight.” Spock squeezes his hand gently, “You need rest. It is illogical for you to sacrifice your health in favor of watching me sleep when I am surrounded by medical staff.”

McCoy opens his mouth to argue and then actually thinks about it. Finally he sighs and shakes his head. “You’re right.” He rubs one hand over his eyes. “Tonight I’ll go home.”

When he gets back to the house that night the light on his computer is blinking, telling him he has a new message. He clicks his computer on and opens it. Kirk looks tired and kind of pissed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” he asks accusingly, without any kind of greeting or explanation. “I would have come if you needed me, Bones.” McCoy sighs and rubs one hand across his face, but still it makes him feel good. He’d known, intellectually he’d known, that if he had asked, Kirk would have come back to New Vulcan to be with him, but it’s good to hear the other man actually say it. “We had an away mission go bad,” Kirk tells him. “We lost an Ensign almost immediately and I got roughed up a bit.” McCoy squints at the screen and tries to tell if that means that Kirk wasn’t hurt that badly or Kirk just didn’t think it was that bad, because in his experience the two were vastly different things. “Chris works well under pressure but she’s not you,” Kirk adds, looking vaguely wistful and McCoy stamps down on the feeling of guilt that threatens to rise up at that. “And no, I haven’t had that conversation with Spock yet; it just hasn’t been the right time.” Kirk ends the message and McCoy stares at the screen for a moment.

V.  
“Leonard, you are hovering.” Spock looks up from the couch in his house to where McCoy is standing by the counter. “I assure you that I am fine; our child is also fine.”

McCoy sighs. “I know; it’s just you’re not at the hospital anymore, which makes me your primary healthcare provider.”

Spock watches him carefully and then holds out his hand toward McCoy, who goes and sits next to him on the couch. Now that Spock is no longer in a hospital biobed and is again dressed in his normal clothes, it has become very obvious that he is carrying a child. McCoy reaches out and places a hand against Spock’s swollen stomach.

“Can you feel her?”

“Yes.” Spock covers McCoy’s hand briefly before taking McCoy’s other hand in both of his. “I can feel her bonded to me as we are bonded. Except of course that ours is a marriage bond and the one I share with her is between child and parent.”

McCoy presses his hand a little harder against Spock’s stomach through his robes, “What does her bond feel like?”

Spock shakes his head. “I cannot describe that.”

They sit quietly for a moment and then McCoy moves a little, taking his hand away from Spock’s belly and pulling Spock by the other hand. “We should get you into bed.” Spock doesn’t frown but he doesn’t look pleased either and McCoy sighs, “I warned you that you’d been spending most of your time in bed. It’s nerve wracking enough for me as it is having you up at all, imagining all the medical complications that could be going on.” He stands and gently tugs Spock into a standing position. “Come on.” Spock allows himself to be led into the bedroom and McCoy watches as Spock carefully and a little awkwardly lowers himself onto the bed. “Do you want me to stay?” he asks, bending down to kiss Spock lightly.

“There is really no reason to do so,” Spock points out, and McCoy rolls his eyes.

“Fine then, I’ll come back in a little while to see if you’re hungry.”

McCoy turns and makes his way to Spock’s office where McCoy’s own computer is set up. He tries not to think about how nervous he is. On the one hand he’s glad Spock is back home with him and that both he and their daughter are safe. On the other hand his mind can’t stop going over and over all of the ways this could go wrong.

He tabs on his computer and brings up a message to Kirk. “Jim. I’m sorry you lost someone on the away mission, and you know I’ll be back as soon as I can. Spock’s back home and both he and our daughter are fine. And for God’s sake talk to the Spock over on your end.” He ends the message and sends it.

VI.  
Spock is sleeping when McCoy brings him food that evening. McCoy sets down the tray and then sits on the bed next to the other man, just watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, before Spock shifts and opens his eyes.

“Leonard.” Spock looks tired and old in his rumpled clothes, hair slightly messy, dark circles under his eyes. He’s happy though, as much as Spock ever is, and McCoy realizes he can tell Spock’s moods; he’s not sure how, but he’s just aware of them and right now Spock is content.

“Spock.” McCoy feels suddenly very emotional and has to look away, “I brought you dinner.”

Spock reaches out and catches McCoy’s hand in his own; pulling McCoy a little closer next to him on the bed he gently kisses the other man, slow and deep. McCoy’s free hand comes to press against the side of Spock’s face and he feels Spock’s presence inside his mind; he breaks off the kiss with a little gasp. Spock watches him carefully, but McCoy doesn’t pull away or tell him to stop. They sit there together as Spock slowly opens their bond, something he has only ever done during sex.

“Spock I . . .” McCoy starts and then breaks off, as the full impact of everything Spock is washes over him.

Spock’s finger presses against his lips for a moment. “We will eat dinner later,” Spock tells him, and McCoy only nods and closes his eyes, leaning his head against Spock’s shoulder, and lets Spock’s mind envelop his.

He comes back to himself later, with the feeling of Spock gently stroking his hair. McCoy cups the back of Spock’s neck and kisses him hard, letting one hand stroke down his neck, shoulders and body as he does it. “I love you,” McCoy says softly, lips only a little ways from Spock’s, hand still firmly on the back of the other man’s head, “You know that, right?”

Spock reaches up to touch McCoy’s face gently, just resting his fingers against McCoy’s cheek. Deep inside his mind McCoy senses Spock’s answer, but Spock doesn’t say it out loud.

VII.  
“We need to talk about names for our daughter.” Spock is sitting on the couch watching McCoy water the potted plants in the living room. McCoy has been helping Spock transplant some of the plants from the garden into pots for the living room since Spock can no longer go out into the garden.

“Oh so now we’re going to have that argument.” McCoy smiles at him, “I was thinking I might like to name her after my mother or grandmother . . .”

Spock looks down at the tea he’s been drinking with toast on the side. For several long moments they are silent. “I would prefer if we gave her a Vulcan name,” Spock finally states and McCoy nods, not surprised, having already expected it.

He takes the watering nozzle back outside to the gardening shed and puts it way. On his way back to the house he lingers in the garden. When Joanna had been born he had wanted to name her Mary after his mother or Grace after his grandmother. Jocelyn hadn’t wanted that and in the end he’d figured it really didn’t matter what his daughter’s name was, she was still his daughter. He’d fucked that up in the end and he was still trying to figure out how to make it right again, and now he was having another daughter.

Spock wants to give her a Vulcan name and he understands that. Spock’s Vulcan identity is extremely important to him, what has defined him as a person for most of his life, even as that frustrates McCoy sometimes. Also their daughter would be more readily accepted on New Vulcan with a Vulcan name.

There are no benches in Spock’s garden. Perhaps Spock never saw any logic in having them. McCoy stands there for a long moment just looking. It matters to him, he realizes, this thing about names, and it matters to Spock and he’s not sure how to reconcile that. When he finally comes back into the house he finds Spock has moved to the bedroom and is asleep.

VIII.  
“Ok, the thing is,” Kirk says on the screen as soon as McCoy opens the message, “we kind of ran into trouble out here. There were these aliens and they brainwashed pretty much the entire crew and then they took Spock, and they were going to torture him and use his DNA for something, I really wasn’t paying much attention to that part.” Kirk pauses for a moment, just long enough to allow McCoy to start panicking. Although he tells himself if Spock was dead not only would Kirk have started off with that fact but McCoy knows he would have heard something officially. “Most of us snapped out of it pretty quickly after the aliens got off the ship but I realized that there was a really good chance they’d just take control of anyone I put on a rescue party to go get Spock.” There’s another long pause and Kirk isn’t looking at the screen anymore but down and away at something McCoy can’t see. “I really wish you’d been there,” Kirk finally says, softly dragging one hand across his face and McCoy suddenly realizes how tired he looks. “Not that I wanted you to be brainwashed or anything, but there was this moment when I was trying to figure out what to do, when I thought . . .” Kirk swallows and goes silent and McCoy waits because that’s really all he can do with a computer recording. “I thought it might be better for everyone . . . that I might have to . . . I thought about leaving him behind.” McCoy stares at the screen in shock. Kirk’s face has gotten all closed off and expressionless, at least for Kirk, and he looks a lot older. “Of course I didn’t,” he says after a long moment. “We went and got him and it all worked out ok in the end; nobody died or anything.” Kirk sighs then, drops his head back, eyes closed for a moment, and then looks back at the screen. “You know what scares me though, Bones? It’s that I think I’d actually be able to do it. If there was no other way. Even Spock, I’d sacrifice even Spock if I had to. Hell, I think he expected me to this time. He told me it was the logical thing to do.” Kirk closes his eyes again and McCoy can’t possibly miss the pain. “I look at what you and the Ambassador have and I think I’m never going to able to have that because one day I’m going to have to watch him die and it’s going to be my fault.” McCoy’s hands clench into fists at that, and on the screen Kirk runs one hand across his face again. “I wish you were here,” he says finally. “I need you here.”

McCoy stares at the screen long after the message ends and it goes dark. Finally he opens up a new message, only text this time.  
I’ll be back soon, he writes and then sends it.

IX.  
“We need to talk,” McCoy says, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom.

Spock looks up from the article he’s been reading. “Yes, Leonard?”

“It’s about our daughter.” McCoy walks across the room and sits on the bed. He takes several deep breaths and for a moment just sits there quietly. “I love her; you know that. I love you both, and I can’t imagine losing either one of you and that night when I thought it might happen was one of the scariest of my life.” He takes another deep breath and keeps going, “I wasn’t ready to have this child now, though. I’ve already done this once, Spock, and I messed it up and I’m a member of Starfleet and Jim needs me on the Enterprise. I want to be the best father possible to this child and that’s going to be hard, hard for all of us, with me on a Starship.” Spock is watching him without saying anything, without giving anything away and McCoy clasps his hands together to keep them from shaking. “You and the Vulcan Council decided we were going to have this child now though, so I said yes and we are and I don’t regret that we are; I will never regret that we are, I only regret the timing.” He sighs and shuts his eyes, clenching his hands tighter together. “You and the Vulcan Council decided that our daughter will be raised here on New Vulcan as a Vulcan I am going to go along with that. Hell, if she decides she wants to do the whole repressed emotions, Vulcan philosophy thing I’d be ok with that too. Hell, you and the Vulcan Council decided she was going to be as completely Vulcan as possible before she was even conceived.” McCoy doesn’t look at Spock; he can’t look at Spock. “But this isn’t the Vulcan Council’s child, and this isn’t just your child either; this is our child, our child who is genetically three quarters human, and I want to give her a human name.” He finally looks up at Spock who’s watching him with a look on his face that McCoy was not expecting. Spock’s expression is almost impossibly gentle for a Vulcan; McCoy hadn’t been expecting that and for a moment he’s at a loss as to what to say. “My mother died when I was ten,” McCoy says finally, very softly. “She was a scientist and her lab blew up; my father . . . was . . .being a parent wasn’t his first priority, so my grandparents raised me and my sisters. My grandmother was so happy when I decided to be a doctor, but she died before I finished my residency.” McCoy looks up at Spock finally, “I want to name our daughter after her. This is important to me.”

Spock moves finally, making a gesture as if to touch McCoy, but McCoy can’t do that. He suddenly feels very raw and very vulnerable and he moves before Spock can touch him. He gets off the bed and leaves the room, moving through the house, finally outside into the garden. There is no bench so he sits on the grass, wrapping his arms around his knees, and watches the clouds move across the sky.

Spock is making dinner in the kitchen when McCoy finally comes back into the house. McCoy frowns as he watches Spock move slowly and awkwardly around the little space in his loose-fitting robes. He considers telling Spock that he’s not supposed to be up on his feet like this. Spock turns to look at him, setting aside the food.

“You are right,” Spock tells him without inflection, “This is not just my child.”

McCoy’s whole body suddenly starts shaking uncontrollably, with what exactly he’s not sure. He goes to Spock, presses his face against the other man’s shoulder, mindful of Spock’s swollen middle and Spock puts his hands lightly around McCoy’s waist. “It’s not just you,” McCoy tells him quietly, “I’m worried about Jim too. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

“No,” Spock’s voice is soft, as are his hands as they press against McCoy’s back. “you are right. Much about this has been the result of my decisions. Decisions I made because I believed them to be logical, but in doing so I have treated you as less than an equal in this. I have treated you as less than my mate.” He pulls back a little and runs his fingers lightly across McCoy’s face. “You are fiercely proud of being human and I would not love you as I do if you were not. Therefore I was in error for not realizing that this child’s human identity is as important to you as her Vulcan identity is to me.” Spock’s eyes crinkle into his own version of a smile. “I will endeavor to remember that you are not my mother,” he says, and McCoy snorts and kisses him lightly on the cheek.

“You’d better.”

“Indeed.”

McCoy finally draws away from Spock. “If you’re hungry I’ll cook you something, but you really shouldn’t be out of bed, you know.”

Spock does not sigh, but he does look like he wants to as McCoy ushers him back into the bedroom. “May I inquire?” Spock asks as he settles himself once more onto the bed, one hand coming to rest lightly on his stomach. McCoy scans him with his medical scanner and frowns when he realizes Spock’s ankles are slightly swollen. He digs through the medical equipment on the bedside table until he finds a hypospray.

“Inquire about what?”

“The name of your grandmother,” Spock clarifies, and McCoy sits down next to him on the bed and presses the hypo against the older man’s neck.

“Grace,” he tells Spock, and the other man inclines his head slightly and reaches for McCoy’s hand. “You still want her to have a Vulcan name,” McCoy states flatly, looking down at both their hands, and then Spock really does sigh.

“Grace is an appropriate name for this child,” he says simply after a long moment, and McCoy looks up at him with gratitude and then leans forward and kisses him hard.

X.  
“Leonard.” Spock shakes him awake hard and McCoy flails around briefly trying to figure out what time it is. “Leonard, you must wake up.”

McCoy is fully awake in an instant. “Spock?”

“It’s time,” Spock says, and McCoy can see his face is very pale and drawn. For a brief instant McCoy panics because they weren’t supposed to induce labor for another week or so. Then he’s up and moving, grabbing the emergency bags they’ve already packed and getting Spock up; he scans him with one hand as he leads them both through the house. There is absolutely no denying the fact that their child is giving off all the signs of wanting to be born and Spock’s body does not know how to deal with that. McCoy pulls out his emergency indicator and presses it, having them beamed straight from the living room the hospital.  
There are nurses and doctors waiting for them in the hospital’s transporter room when they get there. The nurses hustle Spock away almost immediately to prep for surgery.

“It’s too soon,” McCoy tells the young doctor.

“The risks presented to both your mate and the child are acceptable,” the doctor tells him, and McCoy grits his teeth and reminds himself that they are Vulcans and therefore can’t help it.

“I want to be with him,” McCoy tells the young doctor, and the other man hesitates only a second before nodding.

“When he is ready for the operation I will have you notified.” He turns and is gone then, and McCoy slumps against the wall briefly before shaking himself hard. Last time he’d let his fear overcome his ability to cope, but he is not going to make the same mistake now.

He pulls out the handheld computer he’d actually managed to bring this time and messages Kirk, text only.  
Spock went into labor.

  
When he sends it he sees that he also has an incoming message from Kirk, text only as well.

We’re bonded, it says. Spock’s fault. Long story. Tell you later.

McCoy stares at Kirk’s message, reading it again and then finally shakes his head and puts the computer away.

He turns around to see a nurse waiting for him. “Come with me,” she tells him without emotion and leads him down the hall to one of the operating theaters. They both step through the sterilization unit into the room, and McCoy goes straight to Spock. He stands by the bed and takes Spock’s hand. Spock still looks pale, drawn and much older than he normally looks, and McCoy reaches out and touches his cheek and realizes suddenly that Spock’s blocking him again.

“Don’t.” Spock opens his eyes and looks at him and McCoy fights back hard against his anger. “Don’t block me, darlin’, I’m strong enough to do this.” There isn’t any way McCoy could actually force Spock not to block him, but Spock merely closes his eyes again and eases off until McCoy can feel the bond as he normally can. McCoy feels that yes, Spock is in pain as his body fights against what is not supposed to be happening to it, and that the pain is only dulled slightly by the drugs they’ve given Spock, but McCoy sets his jaw and squeezes Spock’s hand hard.

McCoy tries to divide his attention between watching the doctor throughout the surgery and concentrating on Spock. McCoy holds Spock’s hand and strokes his face and thinks an endless stream of endearments at him even as he watches the doctors, making sure they’re doing everything right. Finally the doctors stand back and a nurse comes around toward him carrying a small, blanket-wrapped bundle even as another nurse begins administering more drugs to Spock. The doctors are also switching out the computers to begin the surgery that will undo what was done to Spock’s body to make him capable of carrying a child.

McCoy lets go of Spock’s hand so that he can takes his daughter into his arms. She is very small, vaguely green and not as smushed looking as he can remember Joanna being. Her tiny ears are slightly pointed, she has very dark, fuzzy hair that stands straight up from the top of her head and she doesn’t look at all pleased. He holds her tight against his chest, aware at the back of his mind of Spock slipping deeper into unconsciousness as the doctors work. He’s not sure how long he stands there, just staring at her, watching her breathe, also aware of Spock’s breathing even if he can’t see it.

“Doctor McCoy.” He looks up at one of the doctors and a nurse. He suddenly becomes very aware that he’s standing in a room full of Vulcans and that there are tears streaming down his face.

“Yes?” He wants to wipe his face but that would mean letting go of her partially and he can’t imagine even a little bit.

“Ambassador Spock has made it safely through the surgery; all of his vitals are within acceptable limits,” the doctor tells him. “Now we must test the child.”

The nurse reaches out for her and McCoy very reluctantly hands her over. He wipes one hand across his face and watches the nurses detach Spock from the computers and equipment and move the biobed through sterilization and out into the body of the hospital. He follows them and waits patiently while they clamp down the bed again and reattach the monitors. Finally he sits in the chair by the bed and watches Spock’s chest slowly rise and fall. He is acutely aware again of the sterilization film, and the fact that he can’t touch Spock again. He can watch Spock breathe though, and he concentrates on that, concentrates on feeling Spock through the bond at the back of his mind. He takes out his handheld computer when he can tear his eyes away from Spock and messages Sarek, before noticing there is another text only message from Kirk.

We are coming to New Vulcan, it says.

He closes his computer and settles back next to Spock, watching the monitors and watching him breathe. He’s not sure how much later it is when a nurse comes back into the room carrying his daughter wrapped in a white blanket. The nurse hands him the child and checks Spock’s monitors and then leaves.

“Grace,” he says softly to the little bundle in his arms. He tries not to think of his grandmother or he’ll start crying again. “Your father will be awake soon,” he tells her softly. “I’m not sure that he knows what to do with a baby, but he loves you very much anyway, and I love you very much too, little girl.”

She sleeps on and Spock sleeps and McCoy leans back and holds her tight against his chest, watches Spock breathe and waits. Soon Spock will wake up and Sarek will get there and eventually Kirk and Commander Spock will also be there, and everyone will get to meet their daughter. Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov, not to mention Christine, will probably also want to see her, and he’ll have to get the story of how exactly Kirk and Spock had ended up bonded. Plus he’s probably going to have to have a long talk with Kirk about this whole feeling responsible for everyone’s decisions thing. Spock’s going to have to figure out how to parent little Grace, especially since McCoy will be finishing his term of service aboard the Enterprise. Not to mention the Vulcan Council’s obvious stake in her life. It’s all very complicated and probably unfair, so much at stake in such a small child, so much that could go wrong. He holds Grace’s little body close and swears to her that they’ll make it work.


End file.
